


I Wanna Get Better

by The_Weird_One_Won



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - SlaveTale (Undertale), Dysfunctional Family, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Reader is Pan, Reader is genderfluid, betrayal of a friend, reader is biologically female, reader uses she/they pronouns, waking up with no memory of the previous night
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-20
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2019-11-26 07:42:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18177815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Weird_One_Won/pseuds/The_Weird_One_Won
Summary: Over the years, your life has gotten more and more crazy. From getting kicked out of your house, the emergence of monsters, and being betrayed by your last and closest friend, you find yourself at your lowest of lows with no idea where to go from here. That is until you bump into some guy beating his monster in the middle of the sidewalk and you can't help but step in.You still don't know what you're supposed to do now, but you're not going to be alone while you figure it out. Maybe somehow, though all this disaster, you can both find a way to get better.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [V_mum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/V_mum/gifts).
  * Inspired by [SlaveTale](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7370509) by [V_mum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/V_mum/pseuds/V_mum). 



> Ok, so after reading V_mum's fic Slavetale (which you should definitely read, wink wonk), I was inspired to write something similar for a more obscure audience. Reader is pan and genderfluid but is usually female for those wondering, so I plan on including a lot of elements of that as far as their character arc, mostly from my own personal experiences. Write what you know, right? Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I've had fun writing it!
> 
> ...
> 
> on a side-note, i have no idea why i did the first 2 chapters in the present tense, but at this point i really don't want to take the time to go back through all of this to change it.

You were 18 when you came out to your parents. They kicked you out—as you had expected—and, while you were glad to leave, you realized that not as many of your friends as you thought really meant it when they said you and your cat could stay with them. With the help of one of your closest friends, you eventually found a cheap apartment in a medium-sized city with a few friends not too far away. You even got a boyfriend and found a job working for an advertising company. Life was... Life was okay. You weren't complaining. It was better than living with your complicated and crazy family. That was about a year before it happened.

It was a week before you turned 19 when your cat died. He was 15, your first and only pet. He'd been having joint problems, and you did your best to buy him medicine, but he was so old. You came home one day to find him on the floor by your bed, a little blood coming from his mouth. He couldn't move his back legs. Your friend drove you both to the vet, and it turned out that he broke his back. You didn't have the money to help him, and the vet said he was probably too old to bother with it. You had to put him down. He was one of the last things you had of your life before, no matter how fucked up it was, and you had a hard time coming to terms with that. Your boyfriend couldn't see why you were "having such a tantrum over some stupid cat." You broke up with him. That was a few weeks before it happened.

You had just received your hard copy driver's license when it happened. You were passing a tv store and the news was blowing up with the appearance of monsters around some mountain. You were astounded! Monsters that had been living right under our noses for hundreds of years! You had always loved sci-fi and fantasy stuff, so this was like a dream come true for you! You blabbered on about what this could mean for everyone for weeks—the exchange of cultures, the way we could advance each other! 

But then the government started trying to control the monsters. They started testing on them. You caught wind of kidnappings and heard talk about lie detectors. Then, around your 20th birthday, the government released monster collars, a way to command the monsters so they "wouldn't hurt anyone and no one could hurt them." 3 of your 4 friends sounded as if they liked the idea, but you could already see where this was leading. Pets at best, slaves at worst—that's all they would become. Your friends said you were overreacting, you said to look at history. How many times it's happened before. How much it still happens. They stopped hanging out with you, kept saying they were too busy or something. Later you found out that one of them already had a monster of their own. You stopped talking to them.

You kept voting against the increasing enslavement of monsters, but it seemed there were too many people who just wanted that kind of thing. It made you sick. They were bought and sold like property to different owners, doing anything from hard or unskilled labor to the illegal prostitution that everyone turned a blind eye to because they weren't human. You even had to make an add for a business yelling about their new monster waitstaff. You almost quit, but you needed the money.

A week after your 22nd birthday, your last good friend—the one who had been there with you since you were both 13, who saw how crazy your family was, who was there for you when you had nowhere else to go, took you and your cat to the vet, punched your ex-boyfriend in the nose, and supported you when all your other friends started openly supporting  _ slavery _ —got a fucking slave. She said it wasn't all that bad and that she wanted to show you that, so she got this bunny to help her around her house. She was looking forward to having some extra help around since her boyfriend never did anything. You wrote your name and phone number on a Post-it and handed it to the bunny woman and then walked out of her house without another word, ignoring your friend and the leftover cake on the counter.

That evening, you found yourself at a bar, wasting a good half of your paycheck on alcohol. Fuck, you may have told yourself that you would never drink or smoke after seeing what happened to your dad, but it felt so good to just not have to think for a few minutes, and that guy in the corner with who said something to you about selling joints looked more appealing by the minute. 

You don't remember what happened after thinking that, just the relief of your mind being fully blank for the first time in years.


	2. New Roommate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little rushed I guess but I wrote this on a tablet while driving across Missouri last week. If you see any typos I missed, please let me know!

You wake up the next morning in the backseat of your car, stuffed between your computer bag and a box of gardening supplies you bought for yourself the day before. The quilt that you liked to keep in here was draped over you haphazardly and falls around your waist when you sit up. Your head protests at the sudden movement and you clutch at it, instantly regretting whatever it was you did last night. There's a bottle of water sitting in the cup holder with a little bottle of ibuprofen duct taped to it. You smack your lips and the taste of stale alcohol and rancid breath makes your head reel, so you grab the bottle and start chugging. This _also_ makes your head reel, so you slow it down and level your head again.

You take two pills, despite usually only needing one, and lie back down, flipping your arm over your face to block out the fluorescent lights. You didn't even look around, you have no idea where you are. You can't hear much but the distant honk of car horns, and there's fluorescent lighting, so you assume you're in some parking garage. You don't recall parking here, then again, you don't remember much of last night. Why were you out again? You squint and think, but it hurts your head. You groan in frustration and pull out your phone with your free hand, peeking out from under your arm to turn it on. You're surprised to see 3 missed calls and 20 new messages, all from Odessa.

You open your messages to see several "I'm sorry"s and a few "please call me"s, then a chain of messages that graduated from , "I thought this would help," to "After all we've been through i thought you would support me in trying to support you," all the way to, "She's just some extra help, you know I'd never force her to do anything." What? Who?

Oh, right.

The slave that your best friend of 9 long years purchased the night before.

You don't reply, but you block her number. You may unblock it later, but right now you can't deal with that. You drop your phone on your stomach and drag a hand down your face, pulling it away to see it smudged with eyeliner. Hmm. It seems you dressed up a little last night. You look down at yourself for the first time since waking up, equally surprised to see yourself in a skirt of all things. You don't even own a skirt.

You sigh and look at the time on the dashboard. It's already 11:30, too late to go into work. Wait, what day is it again? You check your phone.

Friday. You don't have work.

You should get home, it's actually probably very concerning that you woke up in a strange skirt in the back of your car with no memory of how you got here. Should you get a pregnancy test? Not an expensive one, just one of those things from the Dollar Tree. Well, if you were worried enough about it later on, you'd probably get a more reliable one. Who knows, you don't feel too worried on that front.

You crawl between your seats to the front and find your keys in the front cup holder next to a half-empty bottle of cheap beer. Your head throbs again and you grimace at it before starting your car to roll the window down and pour it out on the concrete below. You toss the bottle into the backseat and follow the signs to the exit, only vaguely remembering ever being in this place. You come out on a familiar street and start heading towards your apartment building. It wasn't a whole lot, just a two bedroom flat with a decent kitchen, living room, and a full bath, the electric bill included. You got it pretty cheap for $1100 a month considering you were downtown. And hey! It came with a laundry closet, washer and dryer included!

You park your car in the side lot and walk into the lobby with your computer bag and box of gardening junk in hand, waving a small and tired hello to the part-time high school student who manned the front desk so the owner of the building could be at her full-time job. He waves back with a small smile and goes back to reading his book. Sweet kid. You step into the elevator and push the 3rd floor button before seeing the whole picture of you for the first time today in the reflective metal walls.

Your short hair was sticking up in the front and you were wearing a skirt under a rumpled green blouse. You step closer and look at your eyes and— dear God are you wearing false eyelashes?? What the fuck happened last night?? Thank the stars you were still wearing the same underwear and shoes you remember putting on yesterday, but whatever happened to the rest of your clothes was a mystery to you.

The doors open and you step out onto the floor shared by you and 2 other tenants, the other apartment left unused. One is a little old man who often invited you over but you always told him you were busy because he gave you the creeps, and the other is a young woman who asks you to check up on her pet turtle when she's out of town. His name is Lettuce. You like Lettuce.

You unlock your apartment and take a small moment to feel safe again. Then you remember you are standing in your doorway in strange clothing and immediately head for the bathroom after locking your door and dropping your stuff off in your room. You take an especially hot shower, not caring what it'll do to your water bill. You probably should care, but you don't. You step out and leave the foreign clothing on the floor, still deciding on whether you should wash and keep them or not. After you get dressed in a nice baggy sweatshirt and pants, you decide that you definitely do _not_ want those hanging around your apartment and promptly throw them in the garbage. You open your bedroom door and pause to appreciate the way the noon sun cuts through your plants and then faceplant into your bed, letting out a nice, satisfied sigh before your relaxing aura is shattered by your phone ringing in your bedside table. You groan like a child and pick it up to read _Blocked Number_ on the screen and swipe ignore.  

You soon get another message that you don't bother to read.

Maybe you're acting a little petty, but if she really wants to do the right thing, she'll find a safe place to let the bunny woman free and come talk to you in person. You put your phone back on your table and grab your computer bag instead. Maybe you'd have some commissions you could work on today? You open your professional email and... Nope. Nothing. You look out your window on the street below, spying all the people walking around. It _was_ a pretty day outside, and your headache was starting to fade. Some caffeine would be nice, and you just ran out of tea. You tuck your computer away and slip on some shoes, grab your keys and wallet, and spit out a goodbye to your plants and then you're out the door.

Your wave to the guy at the desk again, making a mental note to actually say hi the next time you see him and learn his name. You briefly wonder if you should get him a coffee too as you walk down the street, but who's to say he even likes coffee? Maybe he likes tea? Or cocoa? Or he's lactose intolerant? You put that aside with your note to introduce yourself later and try to cheer yourself up. You just lost your only close friend left in the world, maybe now was the time to make some new ones? You had acquaintances from work and social media, maybe you could talk some more with them?

You try to shake these thoughts from your head as you step over the threshold to your favorite local café, greeted warmly by the comforting smells of coffee beans and warm milk. Not as many people came here for lunch as they did breakfast and you took your place near the front of the line. Eventually, you ordered your usual and stepped outside in the sun, setting out for a small park you frequented.

It's a beautiful day, but considering the recent events—not to mention the constant reminders of people walking around with their monsters—it all seems rather bittersweet. The trees are lively in the wind, blowing their empty branches around, but they seem... Sad somehow. Like their movements are obligatory, required. A cloud moves over the sun, casting a long shadow over the town. You look to the sky as the wind picks up and consider going home, but you're closer to the park than home right now, so you might as well make the trip. You're about to turn the final corner when the people ahead of you suddenly slow down, crowding around a rowdy old man and someone on the ground.

“—you  _lazy, worthless, useless_ piece of  _shit_! I'm sick and tired of your smart ass mouth, just shut the hell  _up_!”

The crowd murmurs as Crazy Old Guy swings his cane and you can see another guy on all fours frantically dodging to the left by practically throwing their body.

“ _Sit still_ and take your beating, you useless shit! Learn your lesson!”

You hear the tell-tale beep of a collar and realize that he's beating a monster. You try to worm your way to the front while he continues, and you hear a clatter as the monster falls to the ground.

He's hitting them across the back with his cane now. You shove your way past the final few layers to the front of the crowd in disbelief. Sure, there were laws against monster cruelty, but realistically, no one cared. No one but you, that is, or so it seemed. The others crowded around looked to each other and back at the scene in some kind of morbid curiosity, but no one moved to stop it.

He raised his cane again, "Even with a collar, you still find ways to disobey me, and I'm sick of it!"

Fine, you would stop it then.

"Hey!" You grab his cane with your free hand as he started to bring it down, stopping him mid-swing. The only man turns to you and you are briefly shocked to see just how furious he is before he continues his swing up to your head. You feel a bonk, but your own hands slowed most of the fore.  You glare at him and harden your own face with the power of human decency.

"Let go of my cane you bitch! Who the fuck are you?!" He shoves an elbow into your stomach, much harder than his swing, and knocks the air out of you, jarring your other arm and spilling your coffee all over your front. 

You growled, "Stop hurting this monster or I'll call the police for disturbing the peace, monster abuse, and public assault." His movements stutter and he briefly pales before his face flushes even more and he gives his cane a swift yank. "There are plenty of witnesses here, and I'm sure the police would believe the nice bruise I can tell will be on my stomach."

Now he's sweating. "Ehhh, look, can't we forget about this..?" He smiles nervously with one hand out, the other still on his cane. You release his cane and cross your arms, staring him down with a hard glare. "F-Fifty dollars!" he offers.

"I don't want your fucking money, man!"

He gestures to his monster who is still lyinh on the ground, breathing heavily. "W-why don't you take him and we can both just walk away without getting the police involved? I don't want him anyway, please." He starts fumbling for some paper and writes down his name and the date of tranaction but you try to stop him.

"N-no mister, I don't want your monster, I want you to stop hurting him!" You put your arms out in front of you to block the papers he's fumbling for in his jacket but he starts forcing them into your hands.

"Please! He doesn't need much! Skeleton's come house trained and everyting! He's a rare type, and he doesn't even eat! Just take him!" He shoves the papers into your hoodie pocket and scoots through the crowd who just... Watches. Once he's far enough away he turns around and waves his cane in the air at you and shouts, laughing, "JOKES ON YOU, BITCH, ITS WORTHLESS!” and he takes off as fast as possible, hobbling on that cane.

You try to find something else to say, but the words die on your tongue when you realize that you won't catch him in the crowd. You feel like a little kid again, lost and confused, entirely unsure of yourself. You take the papers out of your pocket to keep them dry and then turn around to face your newly acquired monster.

He glares at you with a look that just screams distrust.

You don't blame him.

You notice that he's only wearing an old jacket and some shorts, and despite the warmer day today, it has been snowing recently. His feet were probably freezing.

"I'm sorry," you say out of habit, "You don't have to stay down, please, just ignore everyting he ever told you to do. Do you want to come to my home? It's warmer." The collar around his neck beeps blue and you fidget under his gaze, but he doesn't say anything. He just stares up at you with empty eye sockets and a blank grin. It's pretty scary, honestly, and you look for anything to distract yourself.

The crowd has started to disperse by now and continue on their way and you use them as an excuse to avert your eyes for a moment while you wait for him to do something. You look back to the monster who is now standing and a few steps closer. You assume that means he's coming and head back for home, eager to change once again. You walk down the street, hyper-aware that he's a solid 4 feet behind you, walking solemnly and still grinning like death itself. You pass the café again and consider asking if he wants anything, but he'd probably rather be out of the weather. The wind was picking up some more, stirring around leaves into old snowdrifts. You walk a little quicker.

Eventually, you reach your building and open the door to the lobby, this time seeing your landlady at the counter talking to that guy. You don't bother them and step into the elevator, trying your best not to look at the skeleton who has backed himself into the farthest corner away from you. You can see him continuing to stare at you with empty eyesockets through the reflection in the wall, still smiling with some kind of perma-grin you guessed. You shivver and press the 3rd-floor button and wait impatiently.

The doors open and you hurry across the hall, hoping to avoid your creepy neighbor, and open the door, allowing the monster to slink in after you before shutting and locking the door. You turn around and clap your hands together, rubbing them awkwardly.

"Well, uh. Welcome to my apartment? There's a spare room across from the bathroom that you can use, and you're welcome to anything here. Make yourself at home, I guess, and I'm gonna get out of this thing..." He has faint little lights in his sockets now, probably acting as pupils, but he only stares in response so you make your way to your bedroom and quickly change out of your soiled clothes. You carry them with you to the laundry closet near the front door and are surprised to find your new roommate leaning his head against the fridge in defeat.

"Oh, hey. Are you hungry?" He jumps when you step around the bar to him and backs away from the fridge, glancing between it and you for a bit before looking away at the floor without a word. "You can have whatever you want, you know? You don't need my permission." His collar beeps with a little blue light and he looks at you incredulously before slowly putting a skeletal hand on the door handle, testing to see what you would do. You raise an eyebrow in skeptical curiosity and continue on your way to the laundry closet, dumping your stuff in the washer along with some other things in a basket beside you in the floor.

You hear the fridge open and the clink of condiments rattling and you smirk a little to yourself. It wasn't much, but maybe he could trust you eventually? You push the start button and suddenly realize what you're thinking to yourself. You have a fucking slave in your house, forced onto you by some old coot on the street. Why should he trust you? You wouldn't trust you. Maybe you should leave him alone, give him some space? That's all you wanted for so many years, not that your situation was exactly comparable to being a literal slave, but seeing as how quiet he is you wouldn't put it past him.

You turn back around to see him chugging from your ketchup bottle.

O-kay. You puff your cheeks and let out a stressed breath. This isn't going to be easy. But neither has the rest of your life. You can make it, just like you have everything else.

You don't want to intrude on his little moment with the fridge so you think you'll come back later for a midnight snack after he's gone to bed. The feeling of someone watching you burns into your back as you walk back down the hallway to your room. "Could you turn out the lights when you're done?" You only get a grunt in response.

Good enough. 


	3. goin to Work

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey i'm making up for long inactivity i guess with this super-long chapter that i didn't mean to be this long?? but. anyway. here it be.
> 
> also i forgot to tell y'all that i have a tumblr! https://the-weird-one-won.tumblr.com/

You woke up late that night at 2 am and snuck into the kitchen, mentally smacking yourself in the head for sneaking around in your own kitchen. This was stupid, you had every right to be here. You shook your head as you opened the fridge, heart set on the other half of that sub from a day or two ago. Unfortunately, it seemed your new roommate got to it first if the empty wrapper that fell through your fingers was any indication. You scoffed. What kind of person eats a sandwich and then leaves the wrapper in the fridge in the shape of a sandwich? You tossed it in the trash and kept looking, breathing out a sigh.

The light from the fridge bathed the kitchen in pasty white light as you folded over, hunting for something other than cereal or sliced ham that you can eat. You found a slice of old pizza in the back and gave it a cautious sniff, then quickly pulled it away with a grimace. God, how long has that been in here? Into the trash it went. Ok, cereal then.

You fixed yourself a bowl of your favorite cereal and sat on the counter, sleepily scooping cereal into your mouth. The kitchen was dark now and it took your eyes a few moments to adjust to the lack of light before you could make anything out of the shadow of the room. You glanced at the clock over the stove again to read that it was now about 2:45 am. You groaned inwardly and shoveled the rest down your throat. You needed to go to sleep, you’ve got work in the morning, after all. 

Leaving your bowl and spoon in the sink, you tiptoed down the hall, doing your best to not wake the skeleton. You figured you would have to take him with you to the office tomorrow, and although you really wanted to leave him home to let him rest or get acclimated or something, but you had no idea what he would do while you were gone, and you had absolutely zero intentions of ordering him to not mess anything up.

As you passed by his door you heard faint snoring and smiled sadly to yourself, pleased that he was at least somewhere safe but worried about what was supposed to happen now. You were making enough at the moment to support yourself and start putting some stuff into savings so you had a little to fall back on if need be, but who could tell how long that would last if you needed to start using it? How much did he eat? You’d need new clothes for him, toiletries if he needed them, hobbies--god, where were you going to get that kind of money?

You laid down on your bed and sighed, staring blankly at the ceiling. Would you need to get a second job? You could probably pick up a minimum wage job at a local restaurant or bar, but you kind of prided yourself at never having to deal with too many people anymore. You glanced at your closet where you kept your face painting kit from when you first moved out. That had kept you afloat when you were first stepping out into the world, maybe you should look around for a few festivals or party rooms?

You heard a scream in the next room and you bolted upright, scrambled to the hallway, and frantically knocked on the door. “Hey, uh, skeleton guy? Are you ok?” Oh, fuck, what if he’s hurt? You don’t know how to treat a monster, no matter how fascinated you were. Did you have the money to take him somewhere to get treated?

The doorknob turned and the monster on the other side flung the door open, making you jump with a little squawk. His eyelights widened a little and you could see the incredulous cant of his eyebrow bones. Eyebrow bones? You chose not to think too hard on it.

“Sorry, I just wanted to check on you. Are you ok?”

He ignored your question and walked around you to the bathroom, flicking on the light and shutting the door just as fast as he’d opened the other one. You blinked and stood awkwardly, wringing your hands and looking at the way the light from the crack under the door bent around your bare toes. 

Ok, so he wants to be alone, that’s understandable. He seems ok, after all. You can’t blame him, you’re his “owner,” just another human to him. You try to tell yourself that you’re not a horrible person as you walk back to your bedroom and carefully shut your door behind you. You sat heavily on your bed, making it squeak in protest, and you sighed. A glance at your alarm clock told you it was now about 3 am. You rubbed a hand over your face and got under the covers. The light of the moon sliced through the blinds over your bed and you tugged the cord, cracking them open a little more. It was just barely touching the top of the building across the alley and you knew that it would soon be hidden from your view. You snuggled into the covers with a worried sigh and tried to sleep.

\-------

At 6 am, the sound of crashing waves and crying gulls startled you awake and you groggily rolled over and slapped a hand over the snooze button. The only problem was that you completely missed your alarm clock and instead knocked a bottle of water off your side table, making it fall to the floor with a bang. You shot out of bed with a jolt before realizing what happened and turned your alarm off. You groaned and rubbed your face, leaning forward on your knees, before swinging your legs over the side of your bed and hissing at the temperature of the floors on your warm feet. You grabbed some work clothes out of your dresser and headed for the bathroom. You consciously locked the door and tried to take a much shorter shower than usual shower than usual. You’d be conserving your water from now on.

You stepped out and dried off, quickly changing and combing your hair, then scampering back to your bedroom so Boneman could have his privacy if he wanted it. You laid your pajamas on your bed and realized that you didn’t even know his name. You felt a pang of nameless panic before you calmed yourself down. He hadn’t done anything besides eat your sandwich and ignore you, you had nothing to fear.

You breathed out a puff of stress and dried your hair out, then used the water bottle from the floor to water some of your plants which were placed around the streetside window. This part of your room was separated from the rest by a bookcase which held more plants and plant care items. It was probably a little weird to have so many, but they had always fascinated you. You often liked to joke to yourself that you in another life you’d have been a botanist, but for now, this was nice. Each one had a little story, and over time, they had come to mean something very special to you. You said some happy good mornings and opened the blinds, letting in the first hints of the morning. The sky was a rich blue in the distance, and there were few clouds in the sky. Hopefully, it would be a nicer day.

You grabbed your phone and earbuds, ignoring the new message from  _ Blocked Number, _ and popped them in your ears before shuffling your songs and heading for the kitchen. One of your favorite songs came on and you smiled, trying your best to think positively today. You could do this--you  _ would _ do this, or else you and Mr. Bones would be dead in the water. Well, you would be, he was already dead.

Ok now, that wasn’t being positive. You smacked your hands on your face and huffed. Happy time.

You purposely hummed to yourself while you started getting some breakfast ready. You weren’t sure if he would even like scrambled eggs and toast, but you had a feeling he wouldn’t answer you if you asked so you went ahead and started fixing him a plate too. You dropped some bread in the toaster and eggs in a pan, taking a moment to enjoy the smell of toasting bread. It seemed your new roomie enjoyed it too as you heard the click of his feet on the hardwood floors creeping toward the kitchen. You smiled, popped an earbud out of one ear, and scooped some eggs onto a paper plate in front of one of the seats at the counter.

“Hope you like eggs because it’s either that or cereal.” He grunted noncommittally and sat with a huff at the stool on the other side of the bar. You placed a fork on the counter next to his hand and you saw him slowly wrap his bony fingers around the handle while you fixed your own plate. The toaster dinged and you turned to butter the toast, bouncing the slices a little between your hands to cool them off before setting them on another plate. Though you didn’t see or hear him eating, when you turned around all of his eggs were gone. The toast disappeared just as fast between the two of you and you wolfed down your eggs. The stove beeped once and the screen readout said 7 am. Shit! You knew you might run a little behind, but you didn’t realize it was going to be by this much!

You grabbed the empty plates and tossed them in the trash on your way to your pile of shoes near the door, then back to your room for your computer bag, slipping on your shoes as you walked back down the hallway. Skeleman watched you blankly as you made your way to your coat closet, still hopping on one foot while you sliding it on one arm at a time. With your shoes and coat on, you quickly scanned the room for your keys, mildly panicked because they weren’t in the bowl you usually left them in on the counter. You ran back to your bedroom and started scanning over your dressers and bed with frantic urgency before you heard a quiet jingle down the hallway.

You poked your head out the door to see Bonedude standing in the living room shaking them lightly in your direction. You sighed with relief and jogged down the hallway, now all set to go. “Thank you,” you said, then grabbed your computer bag and started for the door before stopping suddenly when you remembered that he neither had a shirt nor shoes. You set your things down by the door and ran back to the guest bedroom. In the closet, you still think you might have a few things that belonged to your ex. You opened the door to the guest room and were a little surprised to find it so… empty. The last time you had been in here was when you told your ex to get out of your house, so it was pretty dusty. The bed was even made, almost as if no one had even slept in here the night before. You tried to ignore everything but the closet--including the burning feeling of eyes in the back of your head from the door jamb--and opened the door. Inside was just a lonely packing tub and a single coat hanging on the rack.

You opened the box with haste, digging through for a shirt and a pair of slippers that you think he texted you sometime about forgetting. Your efforts were rewarded and you presented the plain grey slippers with a bright smile to the skeleton who was now standing behind you. He took them into his hands and you could have sworn you saw his eyelights flicker. Your dug into the box a little more and found a long sleeve shirt that you thought would be a good fit for him. As you stood, you also grabbed the coat and showed them both to him when you turned around.

“You’re welcome to anything in here until we go to the store, but I think these here will work the best for now,” you said as you set the tops on the edge of the bed. You smiled and stepped out of the room to allow him some semblance of privacy if he wanted to change, and after a few moments of standing in the hallway listening to quiet shuffling from the other side of the door, he opened it again, now wearing the shirt and slippers. The shirt effectively patched up the holes in his jacket and you resisted the gentle urge to press him to take the coat, but you figured it meant something to him if he chose it over the much warmer coat.

You nodded, satisfied for now, and quickly walked back to the front door, once again worrying about whether or not you should just offer for him to stay home alone, but you were both already dressed and ready, and you didn’t have anything here for him to eat for lunch anyways. You shook the thought from your head and picked up your stuff by the door, running your eyes over the kitchen and living room one last time before stepping outside and offering for Helter Skelter to go first. He walked forward without a word, instead choosing to stare at the grimy, slate-grey carpet that matched his new/old slippers. 

You locked the door and made our way to the elevator, already silently dreading the silence and staring you knew were coming. Maybe you should use the moment to finally ask him his name? It might make him more comfortable. Like yesterday, you saw him staring at you in the reflection of the elevator, this time with his eyelights but the foggy metal made it look like they were just as empty as before. You coughed awkwardly and pressed the lobby button, and after a brief moment of tossing your options in your mind, you decided to chance it.

“So... what’s your name?” you ask him. His head turns and he fixes you with a glare. You take out your other earbud and tuck the wires into your pockets, hoping to show that you were actually invested in getting to know him. He rolled his eyelights at you and ignored you. Alright, a little unnecessary, but you were going to prove that you were sincere if you died trying, so you introduced yourself formally. “I’d really like to know the name of the guy I’m living with, otherwise I’ll have to resort to nicknames, which aren’t all that bad in and of themselves, but they feel a little rude if there’s no meaning behind them, y’know?”

He glanced at you in the reflection of the metal but he didn’t say anything.

“Alright then, McRibs, have it your way.” He snorted, then caught himself with a cough. You smiled, proud that your fairly risky attempt to lighten the mood at least a little turned out pretty well. He laughed, and that was enough for you. The elevator stopped and the doors slid open with a quiet  _ ding _ and you stepped out. At this time of the morning, there was never anyone in the lobby so it was pleasantly quiet. Your footsteps echoed around the room along with your companion’s shuffling steps which were much less jarring to hear than the clacking of his feet on the tile.

You were glad to grab a coat when you stepped outside, feeling the crisp morning breeze blow by through the streets. You turned to the right and started walking to work, making sure the skeleton was following not too far behind. You didn’t want him to get lost in the city accidentally, but he seemed to insist on staying 4 feet behind you as he had yesterday. Oh well, your office wasn’t too far from your apartment building so you guessed it wouldn’t be too bad. You mentally traced the map as you passed the usual sights: the public sculpture that looked like a couple of ropes dancing, the ice cream store that you turned right at, the forgotten bike in the alley here that never seemed to get picked up by the trash collectors. You’d walked this path so many times that you could probably draw it from memory.

A final cross of a street at the intersection with the fire hydrant painted like a dalmatian with a hat and you were opening the doors to your office. You breathed deeply as you made your way to the wall alarm, punching in the numbers with practiced speed. This was the place where you spent most of your time if you weren’t at home. You glanced around the room at the walls which were decorated with examples of what you and others here have done. Hanging on the wall over your desk was one of your favorites: a collection of posters that were commissioned by a local theater. You set your computer bag on your desk and started getting set up while the skeleton boy started to hang around a little more closely.

You realized he’d need some space so you tapped a finger to your shin and looked around the office for a spare chair or desk. Unfortunately, it seemed all the desks up front were taken, but you knew your boss kept a few extra chairs in the back in case one broke.

“I’ll be right back,” you said to him, holding out a finger, and opened up a closet, pleased to see 2 rolling chairs sitting in the dust. You pulled one out and dusted it off with your sleeve, then rolled it back to your own desk where the monster was now standing awkwardly to the side with his hands in his front pockets. “Here you go, now you can have your own chair!”

You pushed the chair toward him but he didn’t sit. “Is something wrong?”

He said nothing, only stared at you uncomfortably. He almost looked like he wanted to say something but you could tell his guard was up. Maybe you should chance it again, and try to get him out of his shell? You looked at the chair and cocked your head. Maybe it was just the dust? You sat in the new one and passed him yours. “Here, you can sit in this one if you prefer. It’s a lot less dusty and probably more comfortable anyway.” The light on his collar beeped blue again and the lights in his eyes widened slightly, then his sockets narrowed suspiciously, and you gasped softly.

“Oh, shit, were you commanded to stand all the time?!” He nodded after a pause, still refusing to answer verbally. You narrowed your eyes and glanced between his face and the collar, many pieces slowly starting to come together in your mind. “Wait a second, are you even allowed to speak?!” He shrank back from your tone a little and you had to force yourself to breathe deeply and calm down despite how angry you were feeling. He nodded again and you dropped into the dusty chair.

You were at a loss for words, just left sitting there in shock for a moment before realizing how many seconds had passed. “Eh-uh---y-you’re allowed to say whatever you want! I--No, I have no rules for you, fuck! Do whatever you want, just try not to hurt yourself!” His collar beeped four times and you made the mental note to see if there was some kind of collar reset option in his papers in case that didn’t cover it all. You ran a hand through your hair in frustration and anger, trying your best not to get mad in front of him. “Oh, God.” You sighed out the most of the tightness in your chest through your teeth and sat up, doing your best to pet down your hair. You turned back to him, then asked him as calmly as possible, “So, would you actually like to tell me your name or are you pretty partial to ‘McRibs’?”

You just barely saw the corner of his mouth quirk upward with nervous stress and he answered, “Sans. Thought you’d have seen that in my files.” He looked away, and you’re kind of glad he did--that deep baritone startled you a little. He sat heavily in the desk chair and sank into it, trying to look nonchalant but you could feel the tension.

“No, I haven’t read them,” you said, crossing your arms over your desk. “I mean, it was pretty late to begin with, and when I looked at them I just felt… sick.” You glanced at him, then up at the ceiling. “All of this is just so wrong, the least I can do is offer a little privacy.” You sigh and turn on your computer before getting up and heading to the back to turn on the lights and get ready. Normally you’d be out the door at 6:45 so everything would be ready for the others to come in by 7:30 with some quiet time to spare, but today you only had a few minutes. You turned on the lights to the different parts of the office, then the little fountain in the front window, then the heat. You grabbed a couple of waters from the fridge in the back and came back to your desk when you were done and set one down in front of Sans on the desk.

_ Sans _ . You chuckled a little as you sat down, taking out your laptop and plugging in your flash drive. “What?” he asked.

“Your name, it’s just a little ironic in a weird, bitter way.” You carried over your weekend work files onto the drive before ejecting the drive and plugging it into your work PC. You glanced at Sans to see him looking at you expectantly and you sighed a little. “1) I’m a designer who works with fonts and your name is the name of a font and 2) that font is generally hated, much like the popular opinion on monsters,” you smiled bitterly at your screen and you heard him mutter a quiet “oh.”

You sighed again and scrunched your eyes, sliding your chair back to look at him face-to-face. “Look, Sans, I don’t have anything against you or other monsters, ok? I think all of this is just shit, and none of you deserve it. It’s awful that humans so easily forgot our own history, much less the one we shared. If there’s anything I can do, please, tell me.” You tried to convey sincerity with the look you gave him, but he seemed to shrink away from you again.

“Yeah, um, ok…”

You nodded and pulled yourself back to your desk, “Ok, good. Nice. Cool talk.” You patted the desk absentmindedly and pursed your lips at some far-off point. Ok, you really needed to get to work. Yeah, work, ok. A glance at the computer screen told you it was 7:28, and any minute, your coworkers would start trickling in. That would be a good distraction. Not that you really should be distracted right now. Right? Were you overthinking this? Probably.

Work. You should work.

You updated the projects on your work PC.


End file.
